Mistletoe
by Sela McGrane
Summary: A perfectly good plan goes awry, and Hermione is forced to readdress where her interests lay. Rated M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Well, this was going to be a oneshot. Turns out it's probably going to be a three shot. I will still be working on Dueling, and I'm still hoping to have it done by Christmas, but this plot bunny was more Christmas themed, so I couldn't resist hashing it out during the appropriate season. Hope you all enjoy. I covet your thoughts. :)**

* * *

Hermione Granger had _had it_ with Ronald Weasley. Even Harry had managed to get snogged the other day, and he was the most awkward boy in Hogwarts, save for Neville… and Crabbe and Goyle, who Hermione was not inclined to actually count as boys. Apes, more like. Harry's kiss with Cho Chang last year in the Room of Requirement had given her an idea, and after months and months of pleading, Harry had finally agreed to help with her plan. It was all arranged.

"Alright Harry, the mistletoe is in place," Hermione said. "All you have to do is tell Ron to come down this corridor. I'm sure you can think of a good reason. I'll be waiting."

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Are you sure this is a good idea 'Mione?" he asked for the hundredth time. "I mean, even I'm not so thick as to see how he looks at you, but you're like my sister. I feel like I'm setting up my sister for a snog with my best mate. It would be like if Ginny were to ask Ron – Merlin knows that will never happen – to set me up to kiss her. It's weird."

Hermione sighed. "It's just a kiss. A stupid, little kiss, that if I'm lucky, will give Ron the opening he needs to admit he fancies me. I'm _not_ going to be the one to make the first move! I'd be the laughing stock of Hogwarts if I did that."

"You are making the first move," Harry argued pointedly. "Setting this up is totally a _move_."

"If I was just waiting around the corner to assault him, then yes, you'd be right," the sixth year girl said. "That said, it's the mistletoe that will compel him to kiss me, remember? He just has to get under that doorway."

"What if someone else comes 'round first?" her best friend asked.

"Harry, it's Christmas break," Hermione huffed. "Most of the students have gone home for the hols, and those that are still here are not likely to come this way. It's the Transfiguration corridor. Who, pray tell, would be going to the Transfiguration classroom over Christmas break?"

The raven haired boy snorted. "Only you," he jibed. "Well, if you're sure, I'll go find Ron and send him this way. He's a prefect – I'll tell him some firsty is in trouble."

"That's clever, Harry," Hermione praised. "Now go!"

Harry scuttled off, and Hermione positioned herself beneath the mistletoe, which would trap her until Ron came along and snogged her. The spell to enchant the mistletoe to do that was restricted – only over seventeens could perform it – which was fine as she'd come of age in September. It was just an issue of waiting, now. What could go wrong?

* * *

Minerva McGonagall sighed, standing from her desk and grabbing her cloak. She was trying to finish up some grading before the hols were over, and she'd just realized that the stack of essays she'd wanted to look over were still sitting in her classroom. Well, nothing to be done for it but to go fetch them.

The castle was a bit chilly, but not cold. Hogwarts was always temperate, partly because of the Elves' excellent care in maintaining the dozens of fireplaces, and partly due to the fact that the magic on which the school was built somehow managed to spread the warmth along the various corridors. Albus had told her once that the magic acted as a conduit between the fireplaces and the unheated areas of the castle. It was just one of the many things Minerva loved about Hogwarts.

Not many students were at the school this Christmas break, so Minerva was quite surprised when she turned the corner into the Transfiguration corridor, only to walk right into one of her students. "Miss Granger?" she asked, identifying her star pupil. "What..."

She'd been going to ask what Hermione was doing down here, but stopped upon realizing that firstly, she could not move away from the younger witch, and second, that there was a growing ache in her pelvis, compelling her to do some very inappropriate things to her student. "What's going on?" she demanded.

Hermione visibly gulped, and then pointed up. Minerva's gaze rose, and she spotted the mistletoe. _Enchanted mistletoe._ She had seen the signs – most of the staff had taken note – that there was some obvious sexual tension between Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley, and so it was not too difficult to conclude that Hermione had set this up to try and knock some sense into her fellow Gryffindor.

That said…

Enchanted mistletoe was restricted for a reason. For most wizards and witches, said enchantment would compel those trapped by it to kiss, and when that happened the couple was released, with no further magical influence. In the instance of an animagis being part of the trapped couple, a single kiss would release them, but the urge to be intimate would not abate until said couple had… copulated.

Hermione certainly looked embarrassed at the prospect of kissing her mentor, but there wasn't enough horror to indicate that the young woman knew the depth of what she'd gotten herself into, and Minerva was not about to tell her. The urge to have sex would be Minerva's burden to bear, but a kiss would be all Hermione needed to know about.

"Miss Granger…" Minerva said softly.

"If you don't know how to break the enchantment," the younger witch said, "and you are about to kiss me… you best call me by my name."

Minerva nodded. "Hermione, then," she agreed tenderly, giving up the fight against the spell of the mistletoe, and allowing her hand to rise, caressing the younger witch's cheek.

Hermione really was beautiful, the older woman mused. It didn't help matters right now that Minerva had, in fact, noticed that already. She had always been inclined _that way_ , though she never had, and never thought she would before today, become involved with a student. It went against all the morals she held dear. Damning as she knew this moment was for her, she couldn't help but be somewhat pleased for the perfectly sound reason to kiss her protégé.

"Whenever you're ready, Professor," Hermione said, leaning into her touch.

"Minerva…" the Deputy Head corrected huskily, as she leaned forward and captured the younger woman's lips.

She felt the spell break, and slowly they pulled away from one another. Then, to her shock, Hermione lunged forward and kissed her again, and because of her animagis senses compelling her, Minerva could not pull away. Instead, she pulled the younger woman closer as the kiss got more and more heated.

"Minerva!" Hermione moaned, as the aggressive animal inside the elder witch pushed her companion against the wall. "Gods, yes!"

The kiss, which by now had turned into an all-out snog, continued to escalate until a few minutes later when they both pulled away, breathless. Minerva's body was still pressed against her student's, and Hermione's fingers were clenching her robes tightly, maintaining a firm grasp on her professor. The older woman couldn't begin to figure out what was compelling Hermione to continue along this path, but the burning in her chocolate eyes told Minerva she was not inclined to stop.

But Hermione was her student, and willing or not, Minerva was not going to take advantage of that. Despite the urge to shag Hermione right here, right now, in this deserted corridor, and placed a gentle kiss on Hermione's forehead, and stepped back. "We have to stop," she whispered. "We can't do this."

Without waiting for a reply, Minerva turned and walked away, heading back to her office, pile of essays sitting in her classroom totally forgotten.

* * *

Hermione stood in the now deserted corridor, panting, still leaning against the wall her Professor had unceremoniously shoved her against. "Oh Merlin…" she breathed out. "What just happened?"

When Professor McGonagall – _Minerva_ – had come around the corner a few minutes after Harry had left, Hermione knew she was in trouble. The mistletoe would urge the older witch to kiss her, just as much as it would urge Hermione to kiss Minerva. Hermione had felt the enchantment dissipate, but after one tantalizing kiss, a surge of recklessness compelled the young witch to kiss her professor again. If she'd thought that first kiss was amazing, the second, which turned into a very heated snog, had been phenomenal. Hermione had always been good at reading people, and she could tell that Minerva didn't want to stop. Still, she had, and the young Gryffindor knew exactly why. Hermione was a student. Minerva was a professor. It was as simple as that.

"Hey, 'Mione," Ron's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Harry said there was a first year down here who was hurt."

Hermione gulped. "I already took care of it," she lied.

"Oh, alright then," he shrugged. "Wanna come with Harry and me down to the Quidditch pitch?"

"No, you two go ahead. I think I'll go to the library for a bit," Hermione sighed. Was Quidditch all Ron thought about?

Again, he shrugged, told her he'd see her later, and left. Unbidden, thoughts of Minerva cropped up in Hermione's mind as he walked away, as if all her memories of the woman were being run through her brain all at once, and quite suddenly Hermione was asking herself what she even saw in Ron. They had so little in common, interest wise. Hermione ought to be interested in someone who could challenge her intellectually. Someone she could debate with, who would enjoy sitting together just reading, or talking about this and that over tea. Someone, she realized with measureable horror, like Minerva.

* * *

Minerva made it back to her office without further incident, thank the gods. She decided to return to grading, only to remember with a groan _why_ she'd been going down the Transfiguration corridor to begin with. She wondered if Ronald Weasley had come along after she'd left, as she presumed had been Hermione's intention all along. Thinking of her two Gryffindors as a couple made her frown. Hermione and Ronald were not in the least compatible. They had a great friendship, true, but she just couldn't see them working in the context of a romantic coupling.

Hermione needed someone who would challenge her intellectually; someone with whom she could spend time whilst simply reading books together, who would nourish her, rather than bore her to tears. She needed someone who had other things on their mind that Quidditch, who she could debate with and who wouldn't lose their temper when confronted about something. Someone like herself, Minerva realized with a sigh. Hermione was a smart young woman, and Minerva was certain she had also concluded this fact. "Just bloody great," Minerva muttered to herself.

They had kissed. They had very nearly shagged in that blasted corridor. Minerva had no idea how she was going to face walking to her classroom anymore – the memory of what simply could not be would haunt her day in and day out for the remainder of her life. For Hermione, the intensity of their encounter would fade in time, and she would eventually leave Hogwarts and move on with her life, looking back on today as nothing more than a distant memory. As it should be. Minerva just needed to figure out how to continue to function whilst having a constant urge to mate with her beautiful protégé.

In six months time, Hermione would be gone for the summer hols, and if Albus' subtle hints were anything to go by, there was a change that she, Harry, and Ronald would not be returning for their final year. It was shame, really. Hermione so loved learning, but she was caught up in the middle of a war, and her best friend was the Boy-Who-Lived. Hermione's Gryffindor loyalty would put Harry's interests above her own, even if the cost was her own life.

Minerva had known this already, but quite suddenly, it seemed to matter a great deal more. As saddening as it had been to think that some of her students would not survive the looming war, the thought of Hermione Granger becoming one of the honored dead now became torturous to even consider.

Perhaps Minerva would never actually _be_ with Hermione, but she'd be damned if she didn't do everything in her power to make sure the young woman survived to the end of this war. If it cost her own life to make that happen, so be it. At least she wouldn't have to live with the what-could-have-beens that she knew without a doubt the future held for her.

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 **PLEASE REVIEW!  
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	2. Chapter 2

**An update for Mistletoe. One more chapter after this one. Enjoy... I would not recommend reading at work.**

* * *

Hermione couldn't help but look for Minerva upon the conclusion of the battle. She knew the elder woman had made it through the skirmish, but no one seemed to know where she'd vanished off to since then. For the matter, no one but herself seemed to care much. Hermione cared too much, and there inlayed the problem. After the kiss they'd shared over a year ago, Hermione had been forced to readdress nearly everything she thought she knew about herself. She'd never really been attracted to anyone but Ron before that day, and in retrospect she accepted that she was attracted to him as a person more than she was attracted to him physically. Viktor, she'd previously recognized, had drawn her attention because of his physical form more than any common bond. That said, in the case of Minerva, she was attracted to both sides of that coin, and she knew from what her mum had told her that this an ideal situation.

"You shouldn't have sex without a relationship," her mum had told her as part of the birds and bees discussion, "And you can't have a lasting relationship without sex. Both are important, and you can't ignore your desire for either one. So, look for both when identifying potential partners."

Hermione really had thought that both applied to Ron, and to a point it was true, but while the idea of kissing Ron had given her warm and fuzzy feelings, the reality of kissing Minerva had been so much more, and the idea of doing it again made her want to melt into a puddle. Seventeen months ago, the reasons why she couldn't, or at least shouldn't pursue Minerva were decidedly plain, but now, she wasn't so sure. She had to know if Minerva had felt anything at all when they kissed. She needed to know if she had a chance before making any decisions about the future.

Hermione made her way toward the elder woman's quarters, having already checked the Head's office, and Minerva's personal office on route. If she wasn't there, then perhaps she'd try the kitchen. Hermione knew she was longing for a good cup of tea, and imagined Minerva might have thought the same. Luck was on her side, however, because the door to Minerva's quarters was open, and the older witch was sitting inside on her sofa, just staring out a window. "Minerva?" she asked in a soft tone.

The newly appointed Headmistress looked up. "Miss Granger," she breathed. "Come in, my dear. I'm glad to see you well."

"I wouldn't be half as well without your help," Hermione admitted, thinking about how canned goods and other supplies seemed to pop up whenever she and they boys had needed it most. It had taken her the better part of four months to figure out their mysterious benefactor was the very woman before her.

"How did you figure out it was me?" Minerva chuckled, patting the seat beside her on the sofa, which Hermione took gratefully. It had been a long day. It had been a long year, in fact.

"The scarves you wrapped some of the items in smelled like you," Hermione said wistfully, leaning against her mentor's slender form. "Gods, I missed you."

Minerva allowed the contact. "Suppose I should have thought of that," she sighed. "I was hoping to remain anonymous."

"Why?"

"You know why, Hermione," Minerva stated in a whisper, as she stroked the younger woman's hair.

"Because you didn't want me to question why," Hermione voiced, having already theorized as much. "You didn't want to let me believe it had anything to do with me."

"Correct," Minerva confirmed.

"But I did, didn't it?" the young Gryffindor asked. "That kiss meant something to you, didn't it?"

The Transfiguration Professor pressed a soft kiss to Hermione's forehead, then stood and beckoned her companion to follow. "It meant both more and less than you know, and this conversation does not change my mind. We can't do this." At that, she transformed into her animagis form and took off down the corridor.

"Well that's cryptic!" Hermione shouted after her, jogging to catch up.

Minerva did not stop, and by the time Hermione caught up with her there were others around. She knew there would not be another conversation on the topic, and despite her interest otherwise, Hermione would not press. If nothing else was gained, she knew she was in a position to return to Hogwarts next term to finish her education properly – something she'd been willing to forfeit if that was all standing between she and Minerva having a relationship.

* * *

A decided downfall to have many over seventeens in the castle this Christmas was the amount of enchanted bloody mistletoe. Minerva had been avoiding it for a week now, and doing a fine job of it, though despite not getting caught in the stuff, it did remind her of two Christmases prior when she had gotten caught, and ended up kissing Hermione Granger. The two had only had one conversation about it to date, just after the final battle, and since then Hermione had kept a respectful distance. She wasn't distant, per say, but she wasn't making any obvious _moves_ , nor was she sitting in glass with a glazed over look on her face that Minerva had seen often enough over the years, on students who fancied a teacher. It was an acceptable truce.

Just as Minerva had rounded the corner toward the library, intent on checking out a few books to read over the holiday break that had just begun, another student came running around the corner, bumping into her and shoving her into the adjoining doorway by sheer momentum.

"Sorry, Professor!" the student, a Gryffindor boy in his third or fourth year by the looks of it, yelled behind him as he kept right on running.

Minerva about to transform and take chase, intent on docking points as soon as she identified the ever shrinking blur of a boy, when she realized that she could not move more than a single step. Minerva looked up with trepidation. "Bloody fucking hell," she ground out through gritted teeth, upon finding herself once again trapped by mistletoe. At least, she assured herself, this particular doorway was well within view of the adjoining ones, and she could warn off anyone who came along.

After her encounter with Hermione, Minerva had done some research on how to break the enchantment on mistletoe, and while she had found a way, it could not be done from within the containment, as no magic worked inside it at all. She couldn't even send a Patronus for help. The spell was not complicated, but took more power than a student could have, so Minerva concluded the best course of action was to wait till another student came along, have them fetch Filius or Pomona, and then one of them could free her.

Her perfectly good plan didn't seem to have any holes in it until one Hermione Granger rounded the corner ten minutes later, and all of the sudden Minerva saw how very badly things could go right now. Hermione's eyes were bright with amusement. "For the record," she smirked at her teacher, eyeing the mistletoe above. "I had nothing to do with this. I learned my lesson last time."

That was somewhat of a relief. "I'm glad. Miss Granger, would you kindly fetch either Professor Flitwick or Sprout. After what happened last time, I did some research and found a way to break the enchantment, though it cannot be done by anyone in the confinement, and requires high magical power levels."

Hermione chuckled. "I did the same research. I could do it, you know."

Minerva looked at the younger woman expectantly. "Well? What are you waiting for?"

"Oh no, Minerva," Hermione teased. "I said I _could_. Not that I _would_."

And that was the moment that Minerva began to panic, realizing what the younger witch intended to do. "Oh don't you even _dare_ , Hermione Granger!"

Minerva inched back as far as she could against the containment barrier, and Hermione just kept grinning. "This isn't funny!"

"It's hilarious, actually," Hermione argued, stepping slowly forward, sighing when she felt herself pass through the barrier.

"Why are you doing this, Hermione?" Minerva asked, feeling the draw to the woman in front of her overpowering her self-control. "We can't be what you want?"

"Why?"

"Because?" Minerva tried.

"Might it be because of that little issue animagi have with the after effects of a mistletoe enchantment that you never bothered to mention to me?" Hermione asked sweetly, pulling Minerva close and gently biting down on the other woman's neck.

Minerva groaned, partly because of the arousal coursing through her, and partly because of the information Hermione had acquired. "How long have you known?"

"Just a few days," Hermione admitted. "I was coming down to the library just now to return the books I found the information in."

"Know-it-all," the older woman whispered breathlessly. While during their previous encounter, Hermione had been respectful enough to keep her touch above waistline, even after the kiss had gotten heated, she was not being so kind this time. Minerva was currently backed against the doorframe, with Hermione's knee rising to put pressure on her groin, as her nimble fingers brushed the underside of Minerva's breasts.

"I know you want me. I know I want you," Hermione whispered, bushing her lips ever so slightly against Minerva's. "What I don't know is why you're fighting it."

The draw was too much. "Shut up," Minerva muttered, closing the scant distance between them and thrusting her tongue down Hermione's throat in one motion.

While their last kiss had certainly been passionate, this one was furious. They both held some anger and more than enough frustration toward each other, and that emotion poured into their movements. Both ignored the spell breaking as they clawed furiously at each other, bumping teeth and biting lips. As much as Minerva knew she ought to stop, she couldn't find the will, and Hermione seemed to be like minded. With what little sense of self she had left at the moment, Minerva flicked her wand and cast a few wards to protect their privacy, after which her wand clattered to the floor.

Hands free again, Minerva tugged at Hermione's sweater, and Hermione in turn began undoing the buttons on the older witch's robes. After about two minutes of struggle, Hermione groaned loudly, pulled out her own wand and banished their clothing to a pile next to Minerva's wand, tossing her own on top of the heap. Naked, burning flesh met, and after a few more minutes of exploring with their tongues, Minerva kneeled to the ground, pushing Hermione against the nearest wall, and after lifting one of the younger woman's legs over her shoulder, she pushed her tongue into a very, very wet cunt.

Hermione moaned loudly. "Oh, gods… Minerva…" she whimpered.

Minerva had never felt more animalistic than in that moment, licking Hermione's clit furiously, taking immense pleasure in the way the younger woman orgasmed over and over and over again. After about the fifteenth, the single leg Hermione had been standing on finally buckled. Minerva caught her, making the impact with the stone floor less harsh, though with the state of bliss the younger woman was probably in right now, landing full force would doubtfully have bothered her much.

The older woman's body slid gracefully over Hermione, and the pair resumed kissing languidly as the elder waiting for her lover to catch her breath. This happened quicker than Minerva would have guessed, which she discovered via an undignified squeal as Hermione roughly pulled her hair to one side, rolling her lithe form off of the younger woman, at which point Hermione quickly moved into position to take her first taste of Minerva.

"That's it," Hermione whispered as Minerva's first orgasm began to build under her lover's ministrations.

"Please…" Minerva pleaded, body buzzing lightly and a promise of more just on the horizon. "Sweet Merlin, Hermione… please don't stop."

Hermione was nothing if not accommodating for the next ten minutes or so, by which point Minerva was well into the double digits of orgasm count. Just about the time she didn't think she could take any more, she felt Hermione's fingers sliding along her slick folds, and suddenly her body was on fire again. "Fuck me…" she whimpered. She wasn't sure if her comment was meant to be a defeated plea for her young lover to stop, or an unfathomable desire for more, but Hermione took it as the later.

Minerva screamed as Hermione thrust into her roughly, and then moaned loudly as Hermione pulled out slowly, only to thrust in again, just as hard, causing another scream, albeit weaker from exhaustion. Three orgasms in the space of two minutes would do that to a woman.

"Aren't we a vocal one?" Hermione said after a few more minutes of much the same, when she got up, sitting next to Minerva as she panted, naked on the floor.

The older witch turned and offered a weak glare. "Can I have my clothes back? I'm too damn old to be lying on a cold floor."

Hermione nodded with a smile, getting up to retrieve their things. She spelled both their clothing back on, and then joined Minerva back on the floor, albeit they were both sitting, backs to the wall now. The remained that way, silent for a while before Hermione finally brought up the hippogriff in the room. "So, what now?"

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 **Please Review... *says sweetly to the mass of panting readers***


	3. Chapter 3

**Well, this concludes Mistletoe, and now I will be returning to Dueling. Evil, evil plot bunnies. There are two nerd references in this update, from two different TV shows. To the first person to spot both of them, I will do a oneshot with the pairing of your choice. Please enjoy!**

* * *

Minerva took a deep breath as she took the stage. Today was the day. Today, the classes of both 1998 and 1999 were graduating together, and today was the last day that Hermione Granger would be her student. The younger woman's question of _what now_ had been converted into a _well, when_ , after Minerva had adamantly refused to even consider being with someone who was still her student. While she was compelled to be intimate with Hermione by the mistletoe enchantment, she could not blame the enchantment for Hermione's continued interest in her, nor could she deny that even before this mess, she'd been attracted to Hermione. So, she'd offered Hermione a compromise. If the younger witch could remain only a student between that day and the day she graduated, Minerva would be willing to give a relationship a try after the fact. She didn't promise it would work out, but in the six months since, she'd grown more and more certain that it would.

She knew Hermione hadn't meant for her to find out ahead of time, but Minerva had discovered that the younger witch also seemed confident that their relationship would work out well, as she'd already purchased a small cottage on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, and she'd put in an application with Filius for a Charms apprenticeship. Minerva had already gotten confirmation from her Deputy that he intended to take the talented young woman on, though he wanted to wait till after graduation to tell her. While Hermione could use a Charms Mastery in any number of fields, Minerva suspected that she'd probably do a correspondence course with another master in either Potions for Defense, in hopes that a teaching position here at Hogwarts would eventually open up for her. Hermione was planning her future around the school she knew Minerva would never leave.

There it was. _Her name_. "Hermione Granger," Minerva called the name on her list.

Hermione got out of her seat and walked onto the dais. The graduation, as usual, was outdoors and while the rustling of robes and parchment were certainly present, it didn't seem to take away from nature's serenity. Just over a year had passed since the war ended, and Minerva quite suddenly realized she was at peace.

"Congratulations, Miss Granger," Minerva said with a subtle quirk of her lips.

"Thank you, Headmistress," Hermione said confidently.

Hermione took her diploma, and with a nod made for the steps back down to the seating area. Minerva watched as she went, waiting for her to leave the stage before calling the next name. Then, just before stepping down, Hermione paused.

"Oh, what the hell!" Hermione finally said, turning around and making her way swiftly back toward the Headmistress.

 _She wouldn't..._ Minerva thought to herself as Hermione got closer and closer.

Then, Hermione's lips were on hers, and despite an acute awareness of the woof-whistles in the crowd, she kissed Hermione back. Six months of no relationship at all… gods, Minerva missed those lips. The world around them seemed to vanish, and remained gone into Minerva felt someone tapping on her shoulder a minute later. She broke the kiss, and turned to face her friend and colleague, who was looking at her with a decidedly satisfied smirk.

"Hello Filius," she muttered, blushing.

"Minerva," he greeted. "I hate to break this up, but you have a graduation ceremony to finish."

Minerva turned to face her paramour. "My quarters, six?" she whispered.

Hermione nodded and whispered back. "I'll be there."

The younger witch left the stage, and Filius took his seat in the row of teachers behind her. Minerva looked up at the crowd with trepidation, and was not at all surprised to see that there were many grins, with splash of utter shock and a sprinkling of horror and disgust. It was to be expected. At least, she mused, this saved her the trouble of having to tell people she was involved with Hermione. By tomorrow morning's edition of _the Daily Prophet_ , the entire wizarding world would know. Half of it would know first-hand.

"My apologies," she stated with little cough. "Moving forward then – George Hammond!"

* * *

Being seated in alphabetical order worked in Hermione's favor during the graduation. Greg Goyle on her left had just stared at her with a perplexed look on his face, and George Hammond, a classmate of Ginny's, seemed content to simply ask if their mutual friend knew there was something between Hermione and the Headmistress, to which Hermione had answered with a firm _no_. Nobody knew.

Right on schedule, minutes after the ceremony ended, Harry, Ron, and Ginny all marched toward her. "Hey, 'Mione!" Ron called. "What the bloody hell was that about?"

"Being Gryffindor," she shrugged. "It seemed like a good idea at the moment."

Harry frowned. "Was that… the first time?"

"Um… no. Remember the mistletoe sixth year, Harry?" she replied.

He paled. "You're kidding."

"Minerva found me before…"

Understanding dawned on Ron. "Before I did," he said, looking horrified. "You mean that you wanted to be with me?"

Hermione sighed. "At that point, yes, Ron. But after Minerva found me… well… one kiss was all it took for me to realize that while I cared deeply for you, I was not attracted to you in the way I ought to have been. I'm sorry."

He nodded, seemingly excepting of the whole thing. He was dating Lavender Brown now, so someone who used to want to be with him, even if it was his best friend, didn't really impact him too much.

Ginny looked excited. "Then what happened? You don't get away with snogging the Headmistress in front of the entire school and half of the rest of the wizarding population after one kiss."

The brunette sighed. "During Christmas this year, I found _her_ trapped by mistletoe. I entered the enchantment, and we kissed again. Well, more than that…" Hermione knew she had to be blushing furiously.

"You had sex with McGonagall?" Harry asked, looking horrified. "You had _sex_ with Minerva bloody McGonagall?"

"Generally when two people like snogging each other, it does eventually lead to sex," Hermione replied haughtily. "Speaking of, it's almost time for me to meet her, and as we'll probably have sex again, I'm not inclined to keep her waiting. I'll see you guys later."

Harry and Ron looked stunned as she walked away, but Ginny was laughing like maniac. "You go girl!" she shouted after her friend.

* * *

Minerva looked up as the clock chimed six, and all of five seconds later, there was a knock at her door. She answered it with a frown on her face. "Hermione Granger, you have a lot of nerve!" she said, greeting her young lover. "Kissing me in front of the whole bloody school!"

Hermione smiled sweetly. "I am a Gryffindor, you know."

"Hummm," Minerva replied noncommittally.

"Come on, Minerva…" Hermione said in a sultry tone. "You're pleased we no longer have to worry about people's reactions to us as a couple. It's done."

"Maybe," the older witch conceded. "But be that as it may, it was still unusually rash for you, dearest."

"I was inspired, what can I say?" the Hermione shrugged.

"By what?"

"By whom," she corrected. "And you, of course."

Minerva's gaze softened. "I think I love you," she admitted softly. "It scares me."

"I know I love you," Hermione replied. "And I feel incredibly lucky. How often to people meet the love of their life at twelve years old?"

"How often to people find any sort of love at my age?" Minerva asked in turn, pulling Hermione close. "Don't worry darling. We'll get through it, together. There are other aspects of the future that need our attention, though."

"I bought a cottage in Hogsmeade," Hermione said, rushing to assure her lover that she'd already given their future some thought. "And I'm going to apprentice under Filius. I would never ask you to leave Hogwarts."

"I was thinking more along the lines of a family, Hermione," the older woman said. "I'm too old to get pregnant, but you're not, and with transfiguration and potions, two women can have children. Is that something you'd want?"

The younger woman nodded. "Perhaps, if you wanted a child or two as well. I don't want you to give me children if you don't want them yourself."

"I've been a teacher for most of my life, dear. In what reality would I _not_ want a child or two of my own?" Minerva replied. "I've simply never been with anyone I loved enough to do so. Children are not something you can box away if a relationship goes badly. And I wouldn't agree to children unless we were married. Any McGonagall heirs will be McGonagalls in the full."

Hermione laughed, pulling Minerva toward the very same couch they'd sat on a year ago, talking about their first, unexpected kiss under the mistletoe. "I'm planning to marry you with or without children in the picture. The how long till that happens is up to you."

"What about now?" Minerva asked, sitting down next to her lover. "Would you marry me tomorrow, if I asked?"

"Yes." There was no hesitation.

"You'd go down to the Ministry of Magic tomorrow morning, walking in as Hermione Granger, and out as Hermione McGonagall?" Minerva asked, still surprised at how sure she seemed.

"Yes. Gladly. Without any doubts," Hermione said with a soft smile. "Minerva, I love you. I think I always have, I just didn't realize it till after we kissed the first time. While the boys and I were on the run, I had a lot of time to think, and you know what I realized?"

"What?"

"I realized that I was happy when it was you that stepped into that enchantment," Hermione admitted. "While I hadn't considered you as anything more than a friend before that day, the moment I did consider it, just before you kissed me, I knew it was _right_. I knew being with _you_ was _right_."

"You are an odd woman, Hermione," Minerva breathed out. "For which I shall be forever grateful."

The two sat in silence for a while, a tangle of limbs on a sofa in front of a window with an amazing sunset view. Eventually, they ordered dinner, ate together, and then retired for the evening, making love for hours before passing out in Minerva's large canopy bed.

All was well.

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